A Literal Lemon
by Gwaeren
Summary: Ever wonder how Michiru learned how to do that trick with the lemon and her violin? Wonder no more! No romance, no hot stuff - just a very literal yellow lemon and a bit of wistful fluff. Rated for hints at the desire to have something more than friendship between two women. Just to be safe. VERY short. But cute, I think.


This one's just pure fluff - no sexeh sexeh here. But it does involve a lemon. Literally.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot bunnies.

Summary: Ever wonder how Michiru learned to do that lemon-trick with her violin? Pre-relationship, but after they discovered they were Senshi.

* * *

It had started off as a mini-fight between them, the aqua-haired girl recalled with an affectionate smile. They were supposed to be training – she'd admit that much. But she had a rough patch in her music – there was a series of notes that just weren't coming out right, and she wanted to iron them out before putting her violin away.

Haruka had other ideas. Not that Michiru could have blamed her. They'd agreed to train, after all. And it'd been clear to the artist that she didn't like delays, even if it hadn't been a spoken understanding. Still, the rough patch demanded she work at it until it played properly. Which had led to the racer growing impatient with her – fifteen minutes of 'just a little longer' was more than most would permit, even if they were listening to rather beautiful music as compensation.

A bright green orb had flown at her in a high arc; obviously Haruka had reached her limit and was willing to stop Michiru's rehearsal in any possible way. And she'd probably anticipated Michiru having to drop her bow and catch the fruit.

Instead, the gently lobbed citrus was eyed as it descended, and without pausing a single draw of her bow across her violin's strings, she'd gotten the fruit to balance on the wood, on the upper bout next to the strings. It'd surprised her as much as it had her companion, her eyes going wide as she continued to play. Had it been part of her new power? Was it something she'd have been able to do without it? She bit her lip, frowning at the lime sitting so innocently at the end of her violin, and had gently lobbed it back to the girl who had sent it to her – with barely a wobble in her play.

They'd played with the fruit since then, trying small tangerines, lemons, even a peach once. Just to see what fruit Michiru could catch more easily, and just what else could be done with them. "Again," came the low, husky encouragement of her partner. It was a lemon that came at her this time, always gently, and always in a high arc – they were easier to catch and control, and wouldn't harm her precious violin. There was an art to it – a slight bend of her knees to control the slowing of the the fruit, rather than have it smack on the wood and possibly crack it. Then a gentle bob up and ever so slightly to the side allowed her just enough time to step over – and catch it again. Three times the fruit went up… three times it fell as Michiru grew used to the tempo of it, and her stepping. The fourth ascent of the yellow object, and she tried it – she turned in a full spin before arriving at the spot where the fruit would land – and caught it, balancing it this time before again lobbing it back to her friend.

It'd been great fun, to be honest, and the grin displayed on the blonde's face indicated that she'd been just as impressed as Michiru had been, herself. "You should do that on stage sometime. Imagine the audience's reaction!" It drew a little laugh from the petite violinist, shaking her head.

"I'll keep this as our little trick," she insisted, though her voice was warm. "It _is_ ours, after all." Theirs. Something about the idea warmed her as her grip on her violin tightened slightly. If only Haruka knew …

It was a bittersweet thing, to have something like this together. To have a friendship as close as theirs was, running every morning together, spending whatever free afternoons they had training together – often ending in dinner spent in each other's company. Too often, Michiru would spend the night in Haruka's apartment – or vice versa. And just as often, Michiru fought the urge to tiptoe into the blonde's bedroom and curl up beside her. She didn't want to share their new trick with the world, for that very reason: it was theirs. She couldn't help but feel a sort of sweet thrill to have something that was just their own.

And as her eyes lifted to look at her companion, a tiny smile still lingering on her own lips, she wondered if perhaps Haruka felt the same.


End file.
